


Ectoplasmic Profusion

by VolatileLemons



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Breasts, Ectoplasm, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shameless Smut, Slime, Smut, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Vaginal Sex, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 17:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18642526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolatileLemons/pseuds/VolatileLemons
Summary: The Plague Doctor Paracelsus made a mistake, which ends up turning into a much bigger problem.





	Ectoplasmic Profusion

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing smut or... Any fanfiction, thought it'd try my hand at this, and this was the first idea that I had so cowabunga it is.
> 
> In case you didn't read tags there is graphic tentacle rape, in fact that's just about all this is so if you don't want that I suggest not going any further. I might write more or some continuation or something, but I don't know.
> 
> Thanks to the folks on Discord who egged me on when I mentioned thinking about trying this.
> 
> Edit: I've determined that I am going to do a continuation, there will be a little more plot, whether it becomes a second chapter or a second work in the same series is undetermined, although I'm leaning towards second work.

Paracelsus and her allies stumble into the Hamlet, tired and disheveled as the rest from a tiring foray into the Weald. She was exhausted, having used all the firewood early on their mission, with things only getting worse the further they pushed. All things considered though, she shouldn’t be thinking so pessimistically, after all they managed to complete their goal with no deaths, hell, she even bottled a little ectoplasm while nobody was looking after a particularly harrowing ordeal with the murderous blobs. Interrupting her train of thought, Dismas had spoken up right beside her.

“Will you be joining us in the Tavern tonight? Or are you going to lock yourself in your lab again?”

After a jarring moment of trying to pick out what she was going to say, still a bit shaken from their trip. “I, think I’m fine, I’ll be in my laboratory if you need anything.”

She responded, not even acknowledging his remark, trudging off towards her dormitory, or her laboratory as she called it, even though it was little more than a small room crammed full of books and research equipment, with what space remained filled with various bottles and vials filled with samples, living and dead, from whatever interesting beasts they’d slain on previous travels, a bed, clothes, and a bag filled with a few toiletries seemed to be thrown into a corner of the room more as an afterthought.

Paracelsus threw open the door of her room, stepping in and smiling as she closed the door behind her and removed her mask, exhaling and breathing in the… mostly fresh air, glad to have the somewhat suffocating mask off her face. She tossed it onto her bed which was also covered in several other items haphazardly thrown onto it such as books, crumpled scraps of paper, and dirty clothes. She sat down in the chair beside her desk, the only somewhat clean area of this space, lighting the lamp on the desk and removing her boots, pulling the bottled ectoplasm out of her robe pocket and smiling at it, swishing the thick looking substance around in the bottle and tapping it. To her surprise the blob inside responding, quivering and shifting inside the bottle. “Hmm, it’s still alive.”

She chuckled and scanned the desk for some spare parchment, jotting down a note on it and setting the small bottle down on the desktop. Thinking to herself and reaching for a small metal implement she used for stirring things, bumping a stand holding a few vials, one of which holding an acid which sloshed out of the vial, scarring the desk and splashing onto the cork of her bottled ectoplasm, melting it down so it barely held the bottle closed. “Damn.” She rummaged across her desk, looking in drawers trying to find a spare cork, standing up to cross the room and check her self, cursing her messiness and awful organizational skills.

While her back was turned, the ectoplasm churned in the bottle, using it’s form to press against the half melted cork of its container, until it popped out. The blob quickly escaped its container, absorbing and quickly digesting the various things scattered across the desk, expanding and consuming more and more until it reached its original size, and then some.

Paracelsus turned to face the now massive blob of ectoplasm dominating the small room, gasping and dropping her freshly obtained cork, clapping her hand to her mouth and taking in the scope of the huge monster in the room. She barely managed a scream before a section of the blob split off into several tentacles of ectoplasm reaching out for the plague doctor and grabbing her, expanding over her mouth, and stifling her screams.

Panic spread across her face as she realised the situation she found herself in, the tendrils tightened around her, lifting her up into the air as two coils of ectoplasm crept underneath her robe, one from the top and one from the bottom. She could feel the slimy tentacles of the monster against her smooth body, curling around her bound legs and down her chest, exploring her body before the ends emerged from both ends of her garment, pushing against it until tears developed in the fabric, ripping the robe apart until the torn halves fell free from the girl’s body, drifting to the ground and leaving her somewhat curvy body completely exposed to the blob.

The ectoplasm wasted little time afterword, the upper tentacle slithering back up across her body, leaving a trail of slime as it does so, pushing into her mouth with some effort, filling her mouth and creeping further. The tendril works its way into her throat, causing her to gag as it pushes in, as the bottom tentacle starts slowly focusing on her breasts, coiling around one of her soft mounds, gently squeezing and teasing her nipple, causing Paracelsus to try and scream out in shock, failing due to the entity cramming itself down her throat, now slowly retracting out, and then forcing itself back into where it was, proceeding to repeat this process.

As the giant mass of ectoplasm more or less throat fucks her, a third tendril moves it’s way up her leg, circling around, covering it in slime as it works its way in between her legs, slowly approaching her tight pussy and rubbing its mass against the lips of her slit, making sure to press against her clitoris, causing the girl to cry from the unwelcome but undeniable pleasure. The monster kept thrusting down her throat, rubbing against her pussy before retracting, gently pressing it’s tip to her lower lips, and forcing its way in.

A muffled scream escaped her mouth as the tendril penetrated her, working its way up inside her with no signs of stopping, before slowly coming to a stop, pressing against her cervix and pulling back to thrust back in much like the one in her throat, which gradually expanded, picking up it’s pace before shooting a thick stream of slimy ectoplasm down her throat, forcing her to swallow it and pulling out of her mouth. The girl used the chance to catch her breath, panting for breath, unable to keep from moaning from the invader in her lower half, thrusting up inside her, hitting just the right spots. As much as Paracelsus wanted to deny the situation, she was enjoying her violation, even if it was wrong, even it was… She shook her head, trying to shake those thoughts free, calling out for help before the tentacle quickly shoved itself back into her mouth to silence her, her eyes widening in surprise, not expecting that response with such speed.

The monster preceded to continue its thrusting into both ends of her body, before the one in her pussy expanded and started moving faster, just like before, the one in her throat following suit as they both proceeded to shoot more ectoplasm into her, filling her womb and throat further, the substance leaking out of her pussy as the bottom tentacle pulled out, and the creature proceeded to let go of her arms and legs, dropping her to the floor of room, the top tendril slipping out of her throat and retracting back into the ectoplasmic mass, which swiftly broke down the door and slithered out of the room, leaving the plague doctor laying there, exhausted, panting, and covered in slimy ectoplasm.

Hours later, Dismas noticed the shattered remains of the door, rushing in to see a naked, unconscious Paracelsus on the floor of her dormitory, having not moved and promptly passed out after her violation. He roused her into consciousness, desperately asking her what happened and trying to figure out what transpired in the room. She was unable to respond, trying to figure out what happened herself, and whether she was disgusted, pleased, or wanted more. Hardly thinking straight she stood up, flopping into her bed and waving the highwayman away, mumbling that she’d talk later, he left, confused, and worried, and she went back to sleep.


End file.
